Royce Da 5’9″ – Nickle-9Ne-Alooya (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro: Muhammad Ali]
Never write about me like that
Never make me stick to one, it’ll just make me angry
Never ever make me no underdog
And never talk about who’s gonna stop me!
Ain’t nobody gonna stop me!
Ain’t a heavyweight in the world fast enough to stop me

Yeah, I survived a lot of savage shit
I’ve been vibing like it’s Attica
Bulletproof glass is on my ride, ride around here like the Vatican
I’m an addict, I personify arrogance
I believe you can speak some shit into existence, deleted my 9 to 5 narrative
Now I got a bitch so fine half the time I fuck her, rest the time I just stare at her
Letting the non-believers know I don’t need to go diamond Ryan, it’s forever bruh
I’m a level up from buying stilettos to impress em
Got em blindfolded, tying em up in leather like I’m Edward Scissorhands in some boxing gloves
Hitting it just as if the chick was with the S&M S&M, I ain’t never stressin em y’all are the nervous wrecks
With ya ho fucking me, both hands stroking the pole looking like she tryna roll up a sleeve, I call it the turtleneck
Next, I blow out her back while she sitting vertical on top of dick in a convertible
Call the shit murder the vertebrae then drop her off at the crib with vertigo
I done seen it all, been through it all so you know I know what is what
The smallest part of beef is gon always be all the things you utter bruh
My sense is keen and I got that ivory weighing on the triple beam while I dish a queen
The bitch got the Arsenio Hall from “In Living Color” butt
I got your baby mama hyperactive, piping her while she asking the lord in Michael Blackson accent “Lord, what in the mother fuck?”
My mind is so much more enlightening, who be tryna throw shade? I’m over here just destroying y’all sun
And this is what you call in y’all bag, then I’m in a Goyard trunk
Baby I’m getting cash money, getting the last laugh, the last word too
I’ma need my headstone to say “y’all finished or y’all done?”
Bar Exam 4 y’all, the there is no competition edition
No features, nobody scratching on it, this the I just been itchin’ edition
Ballin’ like I’m in the A-Town with Terio in the bleachers
Y’all are karaoking with Dirty Harry, tearing your stereo into pieces
Y’all need to take a soul searching class
The Slaughterhouse album I’d like to drop it, the New Edition biopic came out and now Joe wanna be Bobby so fucking bad
I’m just joking with my good friend, I’m just so in my happy place
I just know from my head to my toe I’m the greatest, y’all can keep ya ho and ya accolades
Dr. Dre taught me to not oversaturate before he offered me a deal
Right before I got another offer for a dollar amount you know that I had to take
And now that all of that shit is clearly behind us, y’all really expect me to regret being 19 and going and getting a million dollars?
Nigga fuck you, that’s a million dollars, still a million dollars
Nigga that’s 20 million nickels, that equals 20 bitches and an island
Now you’re talking unlimited dimes, and a hundred million pennies
Now do I wanna pitch it down? Hell yeah nigga that’s a million dollars
Now can you get the fuck over it? Please, consider respecting me, I’m willing to fucking pistol bust over it
As a kid I used to just be looking pitiful
A lot of my courses were difficult, so of course the teacher would tell me I ain’t bout to be too much more than just a custodian
And that gave me a complex I’m still stricken with I call the shit the Napoleon
When I walk in the kitchen now I want the ho to kiss the toe and lick the linoleum
All my old bitches before you slit your wrists if you can’t stomach it get some Imodium
Gassin’ bitches and spittin’ petroleum
The only actual difference between me and the Holy Spirit is the Trinity and the podium
Nickel Hallelujah
Hallelujah nigga Hallelujah

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